


Distractions (a LAM sidefic)

by lifeaftermeteor



Series: Life After Meteor [18]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen, Office Shenanigans, Post-Canon, Post-Endless Waltz, Post-Series, Preventers (Gundam Wing)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 10:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeaftermeteor/pseuds/lifeaftermeteor
Summary: An AC 209 snippet compilation featuring Heero-Wufei and Duo-Relena shenanigans.  As the new Preventers Chief of Staff, Wufei works to reform and restructure the Preventers institution.  Heero subsequently - with the help of other junior leaders within the Corps - forms a morale-boosting sub-committee with a mission to keep ‘mentally stimulated and mildly irritated.’  Meanwhile in Brussels, Relena and Duo take time out of their busy schedules to build a friendship that is truly a manifestation of ‘partners in crime.’





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The set up for this sidefic is within the AC 209 work, "[New Horizons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884163/chapters/37012392)," specifically these [two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884163/chapters/37012410)[chapters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884163/chapters/37012443). As with the main fic, all my undying gratitude to [tumbledrylemur](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tumbledrylemur/) for the beta reading. <3

**Geneva, Switzerland  
** **15 April 209**

“How's the goings-on in the Pacific?”

Wufei sighed. He had video-called Heero from his desk for information entirely unrelated to the present topic, but clearly the man was monitoring the situation. Wufei blamed eternal vigilance. “The geologic survey is wreaking havoc with the disputed sovereignty claims,” he answered, “which is by extension making our ability to assist on issues that matter to us difficult.”

“Yeah,” Heero murmured with compassion. “Schist happens I guess.”

Wufei stared at the man for a moment and could feel his blood pressure rise.  In the end, he didn’t even acknowledge him, disconnecting the call with a vicious press of a button.


	2. Chapter 2

**Brussels, Belgium  
** **23 April 209**

“A ballet?”

Duo had sounded utterly confused and somewhat concerned by her suggestion.  Relena had only laughed. “Yes a ballet. ‘Le Corsaire.’ It’s a classic. There’s pirates.  You’ll like it, I promise!”

He had leveled a skeptical look at her at the time, but in the end acquiesced. Approval secured, Relena had bought tickets later that night and instructed him to meet her at the theater later that week looking sharp. 

When the day finally came, Relena had strode into the theater lobby with a deep familiarity, breathing in the scent of polished wood and dusty curtains. She found Duo on the sidelines, observant and wary. Their other outings had been far more informal, and his dark suit made her think he was wearing armor in unknown territory. Coming up beside him, she flashed their ticket stubs and relieved him of his post at the wall. 

As they walked up the flight of stairs to the balcony, he piped up, “Gotta ask.  _ Why _ a ballet?”

Relena smiled. “You took me to a rock show. Seemed only fair.” Glancing sidelong at him, she caught a secret, bashful smile. As they took their seats, she wondered briefly how many got to see the honesty in that smile and the way it betrayed the softness behind the rough edges. She suspected she could count the number on one hand.  Before she could comment further, the house lights dimmed and they settled in with the rest of the audience.

As the story revealed itself in teaming colors onstage, Relena felt the dull ache of nostalgia. She had loved to dance as a child, loved the dichotomy of the art: look delicate but be strong. A lesson she had carried with her through the years, even now.  One that she learned as much from watching her parents as she did at the barre. 

By intermission, she had managed to push such thoughts aside and allow herself to exist in the moment and enjoy the show and her company.  

Duo was candid in his assessment by the show’s midpoint. “Birbanto’s an asshole,” he told her.  “Also, I’m not sure how well this story aged.”

“Accurate on both counts,” she acknowledged with a grin.  “It’s based on a story by Lord Byron, if I remember correctly.”

Duo laughed.  “I’d like to say that explains a lot, but I’d defer to our more well-read brethren on how well Byron holds up in this post-colonial age.”

As house lights returned a final time, however, he seemed more enthralled with the show’s finale.  “What did you think?” she asked him.

“You didn't tell me there was a  _ ship!” _

“I told you it had pirates—”

“Yeah, but not an  _ actual ship _ . Much less a ship _ wreck.” _

“I take it tonight was a success then,” Relena laughed, as they made their way through the throng of other theater goers and into the waiting night. Hooking her arm through his, they turned up the street to flee the worst of the crowd in the hopes of avoiding a taxi queue. 

Luck was with them, it would seem, as a couple blocks down they were able to hail a cab. Their driver glanced back at them with obvious curiosity when Relena gave him an address in the diplomatic quarter. He said nothing, however, and soon lost interest. 

“It’s been ages since I went to a ballet,” Relena told Duo, “so thank you for coming with me.”

“You don’t think ‘Fei would go?” His tone betrayed his disbelief. 

“I think he would if I asked him,” Relena answered. “But I also think he’s been buried by work and hasn't allowed himself much time to rest.” 

“I’ve heard,” Duo confided. “I've also heard there's a game afoot to do something about that back in Geneva.”

Relena smirked. “I have no doubt.”

Their driver dropped them at the door to Relena’s complex and Duo paid the man before stepping out of the vehicle and joining her side once more. “You’re not going to drive home?” she asked. 

“Nah, it’s a short walk from here,” Duo said with a shrug. “Plus that’s part of the deal, right? Buddy system and active hand-off?” 

Relena groaned and Duo laughed even as her security detail came into view through the glass doors in the lobby. “I’m never going to be rid of them,” she huffed. 

“Well you could just bounce between the five of us,” Duo suggested, “but I feel like a couple of them might raise questions.” 

Relena snorted. Yes she supposed, a trillionaire and a circus acrobat would probably require more vetting than a former Preventers EXFIL pilot serving on the President’s staff.

“Relena…” 

She waited for Duo to continue, but he let the silence stretch between them. Turning to look at him, she found his eyes distant. “Yes?” she prompted. 

He turned his gaze fully on her. Again, that bashful smile; again, the softness. No lies or masks tonight, it would seem. “Thank you. For tonight.”

Relena smiled and took his hand in hers, squeezing his calloused fingers with her own. “Any time. I mean that.”

He nodded and—with a final glance at her security—withdrew with a quiet, “Goodnight.”

Relena watched his retreating form for a moment before turning and entering the lobby. She was met by her head of security, Andre, who walked with her back to the elevator bay. 

Once alone inside the car, the man asked, “Does Mr. Zhang have competition?”

Relena laughed heartily at the suggestion. “Why? You looking to defend his honor, Andre? Have you so little confidence in my fidelity? For shame!”

The man smirked, but it seemed to her that there was an air of relief that rose from her reaction. “Only calculating possible contingencies, ma’am. Meant no offense.”

“Don’t worry about Wufei,” Relena assured, still laughing. “Duo’s not interested in me. He’s dating a former classmate of mine. Who also happens to have worked with Wufei in New York.”

Andre considered this for a time before replying, “It’s a small world.”

“And it will only get smaller.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Geneva, Switzerland  
** **3 May 209**

Wufei glared at the man on his video screen. Heero sat serenely in his cubicle, the epitome of an attentive subordinate. 

It was highly suspicious. 

“I have a signed memo from a Deputy Assistant Director in Intel Collection on recommended changes to the official Headquarters tour,” Wufei began, “all of which are abject lies—we  _ can’t  _ tell people there’s a hidden missile silo in the atrium—an OPLAN for a migratory dodgeball tournament throughout the building from Logistics and Mission Support, [1] and a context paper written entirely in iambic pentameter from the Eurasia Affairs Disarmament and Verification team.”

A ghost of a smile graced Heero’s lips, but he covered it with a shrug. “You asked at the last staff meeting for suggestions and input,” Heero reminded him. “You didn’t specify whether it had to be useful, and there’s no accounting for taste.”

Wufei’s glare deeped, and he could feel the growing throb of frustration at his temples. “You’re behind this,” he accused. “Somehow.  I can feel it.”

At this, Heero smirked…and voluntarily disconnected the line before Wufei could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] As a reminder to readers, Logistics and Mission Support is the INFIL / EXFIL division


	4. Chapter 4

**Brussels, Belgium  
** **23 May 209**

Relena and Duo had spent the morning together, taking the train to Bruges and wandering up and down the cobblestone streets of the small city. How they had ended up on the subject of medical mysteries, she didn't know. But Duo had used it as an opening to share with her a recent vignette of his time alone with Heero. 

“He knows I hate it, so why the hell I agreed to go to an entire museum dedicated to medical oddities, I can't fathom. Maybe I thought it wouldn’t bother me as much, being behind glass and preserved, ya know? It doesn't look quite real with the formaldehyde.”

“I can see that,” Relena confided, taking a sip of her cappuccino. She hadn't pegged Duo as the squeamish sort, all things considered. She filed that away. 

“In any case, at one point he gets out ahead of me and calls over. ‘I found a section you don't have to worry about,’ he says, knowing how damn weirded out I am about the whole thing. So I walk over, thinking it’s women’s health, or brain trauma if he was feeling particularly snarky. Nope. Spleens. An entire room dedicated to diseased and damaged and dying spleens. Fucker.”

Relena snorted into her coffee, recovering only enough to manage, “What a thoughtful boyfriend,” still snickering. 

Duo sighed dramatically, but couldn’t fight the affectionate grin that appeared. “Good to know that it takes him about a year before he can do the mental somersaults required to convert crisis to hilarity. He thought he was so damn clever. Jerk.”  [1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] In case you missed it, Duo lost his spleen in the aftermath of an attack on the President's motorcade (back in [AC 208](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14858166)).


	5. Chapter 5

**Geneva, Switzerland  
** **2 June 209**

“I don’t care if it’s thematically relevant,” Wufei said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I cannot in good faith approve ‘Bomb Squad’ for the Disarmament and Verification team’s jerseys.”

On the other side of the video call, Heero brandished a professional’s poker face. Surely he recognized the absurdity of this request; but if he did, he gave nothing away. Calm as ever, he said, “Well, the first runner up was, ‘We’re pickin’ up what you’re puttin’ down’ but that’s a little long for a t-shirt.”

Wufei stared at the man for a long moment, convinced he had misheard or was at least missing some vital detail, a subtle smirk or other hint of a joke. He waited patiently for such a sign; Heero refused to give it to him. 

With deliberate frustration, Wufei hung up. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Brussels, Belgium  
** **17 July 209**

“So...you’ll have to forgive the presentation,” Relena cautioned.  “I haven’t baked anything in I don’t know how long.”

“You  _ baked?”  _ Duo asked her, astonished.  “With what  _ time?”  _

Relena shot him an excited grin.  Turning, she revealed the cake she had labored over the day before. It was slightly lopsided and the buttercream was uneven in parts, but she had hoped the dolloped polka dots and colored sprinkles would make up for the cake’s shortcomings.  Duo burst into ecstatic laughter, clapping his hands as he leaned back in the bar stool he had perched on moments before. Relena pointedly set the cake in front of him before producing a lighter and a single candle from her back pocket. She inserted the candle in the center of the cake and lit it with a flick of the lighter.  “Happy birthday!” she told him, hands outstretched on either side of the confection as an offering.

“Why?” he asked, wiping tears from his eyes as he slowly recovered from the outburst.  “Why on earth…?”

“Because you told me you weren’t celebrating your fake-birthday [1] this week,” she told him. 

“And so you thought it was the perfect opportunity to try your hand in the kitchen?” he asked, still clearly flabbergasted at the very notion.  “You realize Heero and I  _ are  _ celebrating next week when I see him, right?  You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know…” Relena assured as she turned away to open a cabinet.  She withdrew a pair of plates and set them on the bar next to the cake before producing a set of forks and a knife from the drawer near her hip.  “But I also know you’ve been dealing with some stuff at the office and I thought maybe it’d be nice to take a break from it.”

When her eyes drifted back to Duo, however, she found her companion suddenly quiet, thoughtful.  His eyes had been drawn to the candle which flickered between them. A seed of doubt started to grow in Relena’s belly.  “I hope it’s okay,” she said.

A small smile graced Duo’s lips at that.  Voice barely more than a murmur, he told her, “No one’s ever given me a cake before.”  

“Never?” 

Duo shook his head.  “We’ve gone out. Gotten food, drinks.  But never a cake,” Duo explained, finally looking up to meet her eyes as his smile shifted somehow.  It seemed like he was trying to reassure her that his happiness was genuine if perhaps more measured in its enthusiasm.  Relena allowed herself to relax at the sight. “I think you just upped the ante,” he informed her.

“Well,” she began, picking up the knife and offering it to him hilt first.  “Make a wish, blow out your candle, and let’s dig in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Reminder to readers: Duo and Heero, since they don’t know their actual birthdays, will choose a new day at random each year.  It’s a tradition that Hilde initiated in AC 196 and they’ve kept up in the years since.


	7. Chapter 7

**Geneva, Switzerland  
** **9 August 209**

Heero sat beside Oskar Nilsson, his partner in crime, as the two of them stared down the highly skeptical video image of Wufei Zhang.  The two of them had devised the latest check-in moments before dialing the Preventers Front Office. 

From the moment he answered the call, Wufei looked as if he was bracing himself for the latest absurdity.  When Heero and Nilsson had shared their thoughts, his scowl only deepened. “You’re lying,” he asserted.

“We’re not,” Heero insisted. “It’s in the regs.”

It was at that moment that Sally’s military advisor, Lorenzo, passed behind their suspicious Chief of Staff.  Nilsson pounced on the opportunity. “Lorenzo!” The man stopped, backtracking half a step to stay within view of Wufei’s camera.  “Back us up, man!” Nilsson urged.

“On what?” Lorenzo asked.

Heero answered, “That ESUN protocol 80085 authorizes the use of inflatable body temperature reduction mechanisms to mitigate occurrence of heatstroke among Preventers agents both in the field and at home.”

Lorenzo’s face morphed into the worst poker face Heero had ever seen.  Voice pinched, he replied, “Oh yes, of course. Most definitely.”

It was all the ammunition Wufei needed.  “Ah! Ah! No!” he exclaimed, eyes darting back and forth between Lorenzo and the two men on his video screen as he jabbed a finger at them through the monitor.  “Lorenzo can’t tell a lie to save his life, so I  _ know  _ you’re bullshitting me.”

“Dammit Lorenzo!” Nilsson cursed dramatically, shaking his fist at the sky.

The military advisor chuckled sadly, apologizing as he walked away, “I’m sorry, my friends.”

“Come on, Zhang,” Nilsson pleaded with renewed fervor.  “All we want’s a kiddie pool on the roof!”

Heero deadpanned, “Why do you deny me my swim trunks?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Brussels, Belgium  
** **14 September 209**

The commotion that echoed down the hallway from the Presidential staff’s suite was not necessarily an unusual occurrence.  Reuson’s inner circle was hardly considered sedate, after all. But the...high-energy amusement that accompanied it today as Relena walked down the hallway to the open door was certainly outside of the norm.

As she was about to turn into the doorway, a ball of orange flashed before her eyes.  It hit the wall opposite the suite’s door but hardly made a sound. Blinking away her initial shock, Relena looked down and found a foam basketball rolling across the floor along the baseboards.

“See, this is what our friends at the Preventers would call ‘escalation,’” a familiar voice chided. Seconds later, Duo appeared at the door and breezed past her.  It was only after he stooped to collect the ball that he noticed her hovering. He flashed her a wide grin. “Hey!” he greeted. 

“Hi,” she replied and nodded at the ball he was tossing back and forth in his hands. “If that’s escalation, I’d hate to see what mutually assured destruction looks like.”

Duo snorted and, turning to face someone who was out of her line of sight back in the suite, lobbed the ball back into the office space.  “Probably a lot like two nerds launching office supplies between cubicles. I won’t say I know this from recent experience, but…”

Relena shook her head.  “Good to know the team is hard at work,” she teased.

“Oh we are,” Duo assured with a wink.  “Gotta test those political theories the academic types toss around under real-world pressures and all.”  Shifting gears, he asked, “What can I help you with?”

Relena raised her phone with some uncertainty.  “You asked me to come collect you so that you would remember to eat tonight.”

Duo’s eyes went wide and he grimaced comically.  “Oh shit! Yes. Thank you. He’ll kill me if I skip out again.  Just a sec—” With the flurry of words, he darted back into the suite.  

“Again?” Relena asked him as she rounded the corner and leaned against the doorjamb.  One of the other staff assistants smiled up at her from her cubicle before busying herself with something on her computer.

“Yeah…” Duo sighed.  He leaned over his desk and typed a quick reply to a stray email before he glanced at his watch and started the shut down sequence.  With a wave at his remaining colleague, he rejoined Relena in the hall. “I haven’t done a great job of, uh,  _ eating _ as people call it.  Heero wasn’t too pleased with me when he was up last weekend.”

“Well then we absolutely  _ must  _ do something about that,” Relena said.  “We can’t have you passing out at your desk because your blood sugar crashed.  Not when you have to defend casual passersby from ‘escalation.’”


	9. Chapter 9

**Geneva, Switzerland  
** **30 September 209**

Heero had been ticking through the list he had generated with the rest of the so-called Morale Booster Sub-Committee. They’d been making excellent progress in escalation, their slow boil of absurdity and affection directed at their overwrought Chief of Staff on-schedule to culminate alongside the roll-out of the process and institutional restructuring.  Reports from Sally and Lorenzo had been encouraging, even with Wufei’s typical bluster and dramatic ending of video calls. 

Heero smiled to himself.  He knew Wufei well enough to know that if the man truly wanted an end to the Committee’s efforts, he would have rescinded Heero’s IT certificates after he had gained entry through a backdoor into Wufei’s computer and driven him to distraction by hijacking his mouse. The fact that he still had full system permissions to both his  _ and Wufei’s _ terminal gave him carte blanche to continue as far as he was concerned.  

Glancing at his watch, he turned to the video screen on his desk.  Wufei’s desk line had long since appeared at the top of his ‘recent call’ list, and Heero figured it was about that time again. 

But when the call connected, the image that met him was well outside the established norm. Wufei didn't bother to look at the screen, his attention still on the computer before him. He was wearing his glasses too, which struck Heero as odd, knowing Wufei’s preference for contacts at the office. A warning siren began to sound in the back of his head. “Hey,” Heero greeted. 

“Hey…” came the muted reply. 

The siren got louder. “Pick up the phone,” Heero urged. Wufei did then glance at the camera which gave Heero a chance to see the dark circles under the other man’s eyes. He hefted the receiver with what appeared to be great effort. Heero did likewise, promptly asking, “What’s wrong?”

Wufei’s eyes shifted from Heero to glance across the room. Turning back to his friend, he only shook his head. 

Heero was quiet for a moment as he considered his options. Then he offered, “Come over tonight. We’ll talk.”

“That could work,” Wufei replied, keeping his voice even, conversational. “It’ll be late.”

“I’ll be up,” Heero assured.

Wufei said nothing but offered a faint smile and a small nod before disconnecting the call.

*****

It was a quarter to midnight when the knock finally came on Heero’s apartment door.  He swung the door aside to reveal Wufei leaning against the far wall as if he didn’t have the strength left to stand on his own two feet.  “Come in,” Heero urged, stepping aside. Wufei pushed away from the wall and entered, pausing to remove his shoes before walking further into the apartment with a familiarity born from years of sharing space.  As Heero shut the door again, he called over his shoulder at Wufei’s retreating form, “What do you want to drink?”

“Whatever you have,” Wufei replied as he all but collapsed on the couch, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Whisky, beer, tea...drain cleaner...”

“That works.”

Heero snorted.  “You can poison yourself on your own dime,” he answered, pulling two bottles of beer from the fridge.  He popped the caps and returned to the couch, setting the bottles on the coffee table. Sitting down, he asked, “What happened today?”

“It shouldn’t bother me as much as it does,” he said.  He blinked his eyes open to stare at the ceiling, his thumb running compulsively over the frame of his glasses.  “I know it shouldn’t.”

“What happened?” Heero repeated, picking up his beer bottle from the table to have something in his hands.  Wufei made no move to do the same. 

“One of the Deputies came up to the Office and had it out with me over the re-structuring.  Said the changes were set up to undermine him. Sally had to pull him into her office so he’d stop shouting.  Even so, I could hear him behind closed doors. He all but spit on me on his way out.”

“What the Hell…?”

Wufei shook his head and sat upright again, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.  “He thinks I’m biased, unqualified, and should be nowhere near the Front Office.”

“That’s bullshit and he’s an asshole.”

Wufei snorted.  “That is true on both counts, but I’m a bit too raw today to deal with it.”

“Alliance?” Heero asked.

“OZ,” Wufei corrected.

Heero hesitated.  “One of yours?”

At this, Wufei did take the bottle from the table.  “One of Quatre’s,” he said, taking a drink. “It made me think that...he  _ knows  _ it wasn’t me, but it doesn’t matter.  And he’s in the Corps.”

Heero shook his head.  “Guys like that are a dying breed and they know it.”

“You so sure of that?”

Heero considered this, his thoughts turning to his fellow Deputy Assistant Directors...and members of the Morale Booster Sub-Committee.  “Fischer was Alliance. Egal was OZ. Dinh was White Fang. They call themselves ‘The Triumvirate.’” Wufei snorted beside him. “On Wednesdays they go to trivia night together downtown.  Have team shirts and everything.”

Wufei chuckled but didn’t look up.  Heero studied him, finally surmising, “You haven’t been sleeping.”  Wufei took a deep breath and shook his head. When he said nothing, Heero offered, “You can stay here tonight, if you’d like.”

“As much as I appreciate the offer, I’ll pass.  I’m not doing the walk of shame out of your apartment.”  

“Suit yourself,” Heero acknowledged.  “But offer stands. Tonight and whenever.”

Wufei did look up at that, dark eyes falling on Heero from the other side of the couch.  There was a quiet appreciation in the tired smile he gave him. It spoke silent volumes that filled the space between them.  “Thank you,” Wufei said after a time. “For everything.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Brussels, Belgium  
** **13 October 209**

_ I'm only happy when it rains… _

“You've gotta be shitting me,” Duo groaned, staring in shock at the speaker on the counter as the track played. Meanwhile, Wufei laughed loudly from his position at the stovetop. Even with the man's reaction, Duo found himself flustered enough to sputter, “I'm sorry. I...I didn't get a chance to play this through before coming over.”

“He knew I was here, didn't he?” Wufei asked, grinning like a devil as he adjusted the burner heat and tossed some ingredients into the waiting pan. They sizzled pleasantly. 

“Well, yeah,” Duo confirmed and then smiled. “Figures Heero would put it on the playlist dedicated to the two neurotics.” [1] 

“Two  _ medicated _ neurotics,” Wufei corrected, wagging a finger at him without looking at him.  “It is fitting for the...what did you say he called it? The ‘two-by-five’ playlist?”

“Yeah... It’s a good song.”

“It is,” Wufei agreed, finally turning to face him once he was confident their dinner was safe from disaster. “I asked if he knew I was here because I've been catching shit from him and an invisible army since...April? Maybe May.”

“What do you mean ‘catching shit?’ What ‘invisible army?’” Duo asked, mildly concerned.

It was at this moment that Relena returned to the common area, freshly changed out of her suit and looking infinitely more comfortable in an old t-shirt she had ‘borrowed’ last time she was in Geneva. Duo recognized it and smirked. Eyes darting between the two of them, she said, “I think I know but please—” gesturing to Duo. She then pulled some glasses out of a cabinet and began pouring wine. Duo silently waved off with a smile when she offered him a glass.  

Wufei meanwhile sighed deeply, gave the ingredients in the pan another toss, and then turned back to Duo. “Since this spring, I have been on the receiving end of a regular pattern of absurdity in the front office. Ridiculous products which are intentionally ridiculous. Memos, papers, doesn't matter. Calls too.

“Heero is behind it,” Wufei continued. “I know this, though I don't have ‘proof' per se. I just don't know who else is involved. So every day I walk around the building asking myself, ‘Is  _ he  _ one of them? Is  _ she  _ in on it?’”

“ _ That's _ gotta be great for your paranoia,” Duo mused.

Wufei snorted. “Probably not on bad days. But…” Wufei paused, is tone becoming thoughtful, “but it doesn't happen on bad days.”

Wufei stopped then, but Duo sensed there was more to it. So he waited. Relena did the same, cradling her wine glass and wearing what looked to Duo like a knowing smile.

“I thought it would be frustrating,” Wufei said at last. He turned away from them and back to the stove, putting some mental—if not exactly physical—space between them. “I thought at some point I’d tell him to stop. But honestly, it’s usually the highlight of my day. It's nice to know there are people in the organization who are going out of their way to help me keep it together.”

“Who knew that the key to keeping you sane was driving you nuts,” Duo deadpanned.

“Heero, apparently,” Relena answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Heero builds playlists for his friends and family, being widely believed to have the most eclectic, and thus best, taste in music.


	11. Chapter 11

**Geneva, Switzerland  
** **30 November 209**

Wufei stood in abject shock and no small amount of trepidation before what he assumed was still his desk.  He could only assume because the entire space had been sealed with boldly colored wrapping paper. A pair of metallic helium balloons were somehow tied off to the monstrosity before him and hovered overhead, boasting a smiley face and a ‘Happy Birthday!’ banner respectively.

It was then that he noticed the envelope sitting in the center of his gift-wrapped work space.   **_Read Me_ ** it ordered in bold text.  Picking it up, Wufei tore open the envelope and withdrew the contents to find a card with a rudimentary picture of stick figures.   _ We’ve got your back, _ it read, showing one of the figures missing its center line and appearing rather concerned about the matter.  “What the—?” Wufei mused, flipping the card open. Inside was a hand-drawn picture of a cupcake and some more scrawled text which read,  _...and happy birthday!  With love, the Morale Booster Sub-Committee. _

Wufei looked about his space for somewhere to set the card and in the end tossed it onto his office chair—which, mind you, was also gift-wrapped.  He pulled off his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair and unbuttoned his cuffs. Rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, Wufei took a deep breath.  Then he took hold of a taped edge of the wrapping paper and pulled.

The paper ripped diagonally across the top of the desk and revealed...more paper. A cloud of glitter, released from its confines, erupted up into the air and drifted down around him, coating the hand that was closest to the tear.  “Oh no,” Wufei moaned with sudden, tangible dread as he assessed the new situation that faced him.

Slower now, he carefully removed the outer layer of wrapping paper to reveal a sheen of metallic sparkles coating a  _ second  _ layer of paper which covered...everything.  The entirety of his office supplies had, he discovered, been wrapped  _ individually _ and placed right back to where they had been the night before.  Even the desk drawers had had special treatment, right down to their knobs and handles.  Curious, he pulled two of them out...only to reveal each of them filled with  _ more  _ glitter.  With a whimper, he slowly closed the drawers and vowed never to open them again; they were a lost cause.  

Wufei then sat down on the still-wrapped desk chair and just barely resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. Staring at the disaster that was his work space, he took a deep breath and slowly exhaled in a defeated sigh.   _ Only way out is through… _  Standing once more, he abandoned any hope of leaving the office  _ not  _ coated in sparkling dust and got to work.  

“How, ah… How are things going?”

Wufei looked up at the question to find Sally’s military advisor, Lorenzo, standing nearby.  “Slowly,” Wufei told him, picking at a stubborn piece of tape that stood between him and his scissors.  Catching sight of the card amidst the shredded paper and glitter, a thought occurred to him. “Call a meeting.”

The military advisor looked up, feigning—poorly—ignorance.  “With who?” 

“The Sub-Committee,” Wufei told him, picking up the card, waving it about between them for a moment and then unceremoniously tossing it back down into the sparkling mayhem.  “Today. All of them. As soon as possible.” Order given, he turned back to his disaster of a workspace, confident he was shedding glitter in his wake. 

Within fifteen minutes, there was a gentle rapping on the metal frame of Wufei’s storage cabinet.  Turning away from his slow progress in unwrapping his desk supplies, he found Lorenzo hovering behind him once more.  “Yes?”

“The Committee reports that they are all available at 11:30.  I’ve already blocked the conference room down the hall.”

Wufei glanced at his watch.  Twenty minutes from now. “Good.  Confirm with the rest of them.”

Lorenzo nodded and moved to leave before he paused and leaned close.  “There’s no cause for...concern, is there?”

Wufei laughed darkly.  “No. No, of course not.  But don’t  _ tell  _ them that.”

By the time 11:30 rolled around, Wufei had managed to get most of his desk back to rights but had all but given up on ridding his workspace of glitter.  Dusting his hands with a defeated sigh, he stood and walked through the Front Office...finding it suspiciously vacant of all but one of the administrative personnel.  He mulled over this information as he headed down the hall towards the conference room Lorenzo had reserved. 

He paused several steps away from the door, however, and took a deep breath.  He swallowed his amusement and instead harnessed all the pent up exasperation from the last eleven months that he could muster.  Clinging to his false rage, he burst into the room.

Around the table sat most of the Preventers’ middle leadership cadre of Deputy Assistant Directors, easily over a dozen of them.  Heero sat in a corner near the door and Wufei let his eyes linger on him for a moment. The man was as stoic as ever, but Wufei caught the flash of laughter in his blue eyes.  As Wufei let his gaze wander further, he found several members of the Front Office team in the room, confirming his suspicions from the walk over. Some of the assembled group looked nervous as he let silence stretch and fill the room.  

“Happy birthday?” Oskar Nilsson at last offered from one side of the room, breaking the silence.

“Fuck you,” Wufei snapped, nearly losing his composure right then and there.  Regaining the iron grip on his act, he asked the crowd, “Whose idea was the glitter?”  He followed several sets of eyes as they turned to Heero, who raised an unapologetic hand.  Wufei glared and sighed deeply. 

After a heavy pause—during which he silently relished watching several of them begin to squirm with growing uncertainty and discomfort—he addressed the group. “Starting at 17:00, I will be buying drinks at L’Apothicaire. [1]  I expect you all to be there.” He then gave them all a reassuring, appreciative smile and turned on his heel, exiting the room as swiftly as he had entered it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] L’Apothicaire is a swanky (made up) bar in Geneva that’s appeared a couple times in LAM and is a good place for celebrations.


End file.
